


Simons death, rewritten.

by definitely_not_trash



Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Genre: Alternate Ending, Blood, Gen, Gore, Murder, Simon dies, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-05
Packaged: 2021-01-23 17:29:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21323965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/definitely_not_trash/pseuds/definitely_not_trash
Summary: I really love the part in the book where Simon dies, even though it's sad, so I decided to rewrite it the way I would write it. some text is similar to the book, and all original content belongs to William Golding.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 10





	Simons death, rewritten.

Simon wasn’t like the rest of them. He didn’t want to harm anyone, anything. All he ever wanted was to keep everyone safe, and alive. To have things be like they were before. He didn’t want to have to choose sides, he wandered freely as he pleased. Today was different, and he found himself wandering the forest, taking in the islands true beauty when it wasn’t covered in the spilled blood of innocent children. 

The shrubbery tickled his bare ankles, leaving him feeling a bit antsy, his skin crawling, as if insects were burrowing into his flesh. He practically jumped as his foot hit a patch of sticky wetness. He stumbled back, lifting his foot to look at what he had stepped in. The flat of his foot was smearing with gooey, muddy blood, and the sight made his stomach churn. He avoided the smears and splatters of blood along the forest floor as he hesitantly worked his way forward. His knees were wobbly and his stomach was churning, threatening to force its contents up his throat and out his dry mouth. 

He pushed the leaves aside, his eyes going wide. A large hogs head was impaled on a wooden stake, blood oozing and crawling down the rough wood surface, pooling on the ground. The stench alone made him dry heave, flies and other insects buzzing angrily around the desecrated head. He gagged again, his throat tightening and squeezing as his stomach tried to force its contents up and out.

His head spun and his stomach lurched again, his head starting to pound, throbbing in the late afternoon sun, dulled by the dark clouds. 

“You’re quite the silly little boy, aren’t you Simon. So ignorant.”

Simons head snapped up, his mouth going dry. Speaking pig head.

“Why don’t you agree, that you’re a very silly little boy.” The pig spoke again, “Why don’t you play with the others Simon? Why are you different, Simon? You don’t want them thinking that you’re deranged now, do you?” blood seemed to ooze out of the pigs mouth with each word it spoke, and Simon could only shake his head in denial. “You like Ralph a lot, don’t you? You don’t want him, or Jack, or Piggy to think you’re deranged, do you?”

Simons eyes met the pigs, tears rolling down his cheeks.

“Why are you out here all on your own? Aren’t you scared, Simon. Aren’t you afraid of me? Nobody’s here to save you. Nobody’s around to hear your screams, for I am the beast.

Simon shook his head, tears shaking off of his chin as he rasped, “P-Pigs head on a-a stick-”

“Bold of you, thinking I’m merely something you can hunt, something you can  _ kill.” _

The forest around Simon echoed with cruel laughter, his head throbbing harder. 

“You know. Don’t you? We are one in the same, no? I’m the reason things are like this, no?” Laughter echoed again, “Run along and we can forget this ever happened. Run on back to the others, Simon.”

Simons vision blurred with tears, his eyes half lidded as the hot droplets slid down his cheeks. His head throbbed harder, his weight shifted from foot to foot. 

“This is foolish.” The pigs voice suddenly went sharp, “You know I’ll be there, waiting for you. Stop trying to escape, Simon. This is ridiculous. Your misguided behaviour has gone on for far too long. Do you think you know better than I?”

Simon shook his head, his stomach lurching again.

“This is about to get heated, can’t you see? You aren’t needed, Simon. You aren’t a necessity, you aren’t wanted here. We are going to have fun, have a good time here on this island. Fun, do you understand? So don’t try it, you poor misguided youth.”

Pushing past his tears, Simon found himself gazing into the gaping hole of the pigs mouth, oozing with blood. 

“Or else, you will regret it. We will do you next, do you see, do you see? Ralph, Jack Piggy, everyone.”

Simon found his head inside the pigs gaping maw, his eyes going wide before he blacked out, his body going limp.

When Simon awoke he found himself in a soft bed of creepers, his head resting in his arms. He lifted his head gingerly, the faint wisp of throbbing ghosted at his temples as he stumbled to his feet. His face was crusted with dried blood, falling off in flakes of muddy red. Simon continued to stumble up the mountain, his hands and feet desperately grappling at the loose rocks. As he crested the hill his nose was welcomed with another gut wrenching stench. He gagged, holding it in as he looked around, his eyes locking with the decomposing corpse of a pilot, a parachute draped around him like a flowing ball gown. Simon promptly vomited everything left in his stomach, his muscles clenching and contracting.

Simon scrambled down the hill, shaking and panting for breath. He had to get to the others. Fast.

“Guys! Ralph, Jack! You have to listen-there's-there’s a m-man on the hill!! He-he’s dead! Please anyone-why won't you LISTEN-!” Simon sobbed as they ignored him, shoving him down to his knees as they all spoke in unison.

“Kill the beast. Slit its throat. Spill its blood.”

“A-anyone some-SOMEONE LISTEN TO ME-!” He sobbed out louder as they kept chanting, ignoring his pleas and cries. They stabbed at him mercilessly, splitting his flesh and spilling his crimson blood across the sand, his screams tearing through the air like the knives through his flesh. He shoved them off with any last energy he had left, stumbling to his feet as blood gushed out of him.

“Jack!” he croaked as he grabbed the tall ginger boy by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug, pressing his face into his shoulder. “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help you-” he sobbed, letting out his final breaths, his body going limp against the older boy.

Jack stood, stone faced, eyes cold, wisps of his ginger hair blowing in the wind. Without hesitation he cast the dead boys corpse off onto the sand, scattering blood across the pure white grains.

“The weak ones die. The strong will survive.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Alt. ending (Because I have a soul maybe, and I really wanted to have a wholesome moment with Jack and Simon)

“Guys! Ralph, Jack! You have to listen-there's-there’s a m-man on the hill!! He-he’s dead! Please anyone-why won't you LISTEN-!” Simon sobbed as they ignored him, shoving down to his knees as they all spoke in unison.

“Kill the beast. Slit its throat. Spill its blood.”

“A-anyone some-SOMEONE LISTEN TO ME-!” He sobbed out louder as they kept chanting, ignoring his pleas and cries. They held him down as he sobbed, slicing through his flesh and spilling his crimson blood across the sand, his screams tearing through the air like the knives through his flesh. He shoved them off with any last energy he had left, stumbling to his feet as blood gushed out of him.

“Jack!” he croaked as he grabbed the tall ginger boy by the shoulders, pulling him into a tight hug, pressing his face into his shoulder. “I-I’m sorry I couldn’t help you-” he sobbed, letting out his final breaths, his body going limp against the older boy.

“Simon.” Jack mumbled, his face cold. He held the now dead boy in his arms, his body starting to go cold as his hot blood spilled out onto his shirt. “It’s okay..”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I really hope anyone who reads this likes it! :) let me know what you think in the comments!


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